


Death on Fingertips

by solitariusvirtus, tenten_d



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 5 + 1 Things, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Incest, Murder, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 21:57:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3224888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solitariusvirtus/pseuds/solitariusvirtus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenten_d/pseuds/tenten_d
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anger coloured the beautiful features of Cersei Lannister as she lied beneath her husband. His laboured breath washed against her shoulder, the name on his lips burning itself into her skin, a brand of shame and humiliation.</p><p>Or, the five times Cersei thinks about killing Robert and the one time she actually does it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death on Fingertips

**Author's Note:**

> Because Cersei hates Robert. And I can see why.

i.

Anger coloured the beautiful features of Cersei Lannister as she lied beneath her husband. His laboured breath washed against her shoulder, the name on his lips burning itself into her skin, a brand of shame and humiliation.

Green eyes fixed upon a point on the ceiling, willing the tears to not run down her cheeks. She clenched her teeth together against the scream of rage that had gathered in the back of her throat. She had to keep quiet.

“Lyanna,” Robert said one lat time, before his whole frame crushed hers, fingers digging into the skin of her hip as it to keep her from leaving.

Cersei pushed him away, shivering violently. She almost wished his head had smashed against something and he’d died.

* * *

 

ii.

The woods witch stared at Cersei with clear blue eyes. On any other woman they might have been gorgeous, pale and penetrating. But on the wart-ridden face of the crone they were as out of place as Robert was in her bed.

“You wish to rid yourself of the child, aye?” The witch held up a brew of tansy and honey. “This should do the trick. Drink it before you go abed, m’lady and all your troubles shall disappear.”

The Queen nodded, a regal movement of the head. She held out a coin towards the woman. A subtly ironical smile made her lips curl. What better way to pay for the death of a stag than with another stag. Pity that she wished the death of a completely different stag.

* * *

 

iii.

Poisonous words gathered on her lips. Cersei bit back the urge to claw at his handsome face and cut it into ribbons. Would he have treated his precious Lyanna thus, she wondered, her palm pressing against her abused cheek.

“You are drunk, Robert. Leave,” she ordered. “I don’t want you here.”

One of the Kingsguards moved outside and though she could not be sure, Cersei thought it might be her brother. But she knew better than to yell out in pain when Robert grabbed her arm, twisting the limb until Cersei thought the bone would give way and snap.

The mattress felt hard beneath her back and Cersei spied her bodkin not too far. If she reached out she could pick it up and stab it into Robert’s neck.

Robert pulled her away.

* * *

 

iv.

Joffrey cried out as his father’s hand connected with his flesh. Cersei roared in time with her son’s cry and lunged for Robert. The dead kitten at their feet still bed. “Leave him alone. Don’t touch my son!” she screamed, fighting against her brother’s hold. “Let me go, Jaime. Let me go. Don’t touch him, Robert!”

Robert pushed the whimpering child away from him and left with a vicious curse. Cersei sped towards her precious boy, gathering him in her arms. She should have taken Jaime’s sword and run him through with it, Cersei thought as she watched her husband disappear around a corner.

* * *

 

v.

She sometimes dreamt of killing Robert. He would drown in his own blood, sputtering the red substance in copious amounts as his throat filled and his lungs gave way. She dreamt that he died in pain, agonising ache. And the she woke in a cold sweat.

Jaime would sometimes come into her bedchamber, silent as a shadow. She told him about those dreams when he was inside of her, all around her. And Jaime would promise to her that his sword was hers.

In the morning they both pretended not to remember.

* * *

 

\+ vi.

And one day, Cersei decided that enough was enough. Robert had brought her nothing but trouble. Murdering her husband was no longer a thing that belonged to the realm of dreams. It took so very little to do it too.

Cersei smiled behind her cup of wine when they came with news that Robert had fallen.

The last time she saw him, Cersei much care to ease his journey. “Before you leave, husband,” she told him, affecting a tender mien, “I wish you to know something.” And she told him her greatest secret as the last drop of life flowed out of him.


End file.
